PUBLIC LIVES; In Bejeweled Splendor, the Tribes Have Spoken

By GLENN COLLINS

Published: November 17, 2004

HOW easy it is to be fooled by appearances. Consider Peter M. Whiteley, a proper Englishman with a bachelor's degree in anthropology from Cambridge, who happened to witness the spectacle of the snake dance in Arizona when he was 25 . That's the Hopi tribal rain-making ritual -- the one that cannot be photographed. You know, where the positive energy of the participants is so powerful that the dancers safely carry live, venomous rattlesnakes in their mouths?

He was mesmerized by the sight of 30 costumed dancers in a dusty plaza in the village of Hotvela at the Third Mesa. Then, though the event had been planned 16 days beforehand, it started raining half an hour after the performance.

This experience, he recalled, ''was transfixing, the more I thought about it.'' He thought about it so much that he rejected a scholarship to Oxford University for his doctorate. He decided, instead, to do ethnographic fieldwork with the Hopi people.

He is 51 now, the curator of North American ethnology at the American Museum of Natural History, and currently a co-curator of ''Totems to Turquoise: Native North American Jewelry Arts of the Northwest and Southwest,'' which opened at the museum last month. ''The fulcrum of the show is jewelry, not only because of its obvious appeal, but also because it is wearable art that is an encapsulation of culture,'' Dr. Whiteley said on a recent afternoon in the gallery. Surrounding him were 500 artifacts and the howls of Canis lupus, the Canadian timber wolf, emanating from the speakers as part of the exhibition's soundtrack.

There is more to these objects than meets the eye, he said, gesturing toward a 1970 parrot bracelet of gold, turquoise and coral by an influential Hopi artist, Preston Monongye.

Dr. Whiteley explained that the parrot was ''a clear emblem -- imagery that belongs to families and clans.''

He added: ''It's more than just pretty. When you wear it, you wear your history. These artists are the conscience of their society. And they bear a responsibility to convey their cultures.''

There are nonjewelry objects, like masks and totem poles, in the show, and many ''pre-contact'' artifacts dating from before the first encounters with the Spanish in the early 16th century. One turquoise frog carving is believed to be more than 900 years old.

Much of the show, however, highlights current artists. ''We hope that the jewelry and other objects will serve as a window into these contemporary cultures, which are very much alive,'' Dr. Whiteley said. ''The making of this art is one way in which these cultures are being perpetuated.''

DR. WHITELEY began developing the show in 2001 with Lois Sherr Dubin, a curator and an expert on American Indian jewelry. It took them three years to assemble the exhibition. A few tribal groups refused to loan artifacts until they were reassured that the objects would be presented in a way true to their traditions.

Responding to such concerns, Ms. Dubin and Dr. Whiteley insisted that there be advisers to the exhibition from Native American communities. No religiously sensitive pieces have been placed on view, like masks and costumes used in the Hopi snake dance.

Dr. Whiteley was born in Leicester, England, where his father, Jack, was a school principal and his mother, Margaret, owned a secretarial school. At Cambridge, Peter was a language polymath of sorts in French, Latin, German and Spanish. His degree was in anthropology and archaeology.

After watching the snake dance, he asked for permission to serve the Hopi community, seeking to extend understanding of its culture beyond its territory. Ultimately, the gentle, patient and soft-spoken Dr. Whiteley won a rare honor: the privilege of living with the Hopi for 14 months. Not only did he go native, he also went Native American. He learned the Hopi language, got his Ph.D. in anthropology at the University of New Mexico and wrote books on Hopi history and culture. He has continued to research the persistence of Hopi culture and its intersection with Western society.

''He digs deep,'' said James Hart, a hereditary chief of the Haida Nation in British Columbia. Mr. Hart, a carver, was found recently in the museum finishing a totem pole of native yellow cedar that he sculptured for nine months.

Dr. Whiteley met his wife, Jane Campbell, while she was working on an archaeological dig in New Mexico. They live with their two children in Westchester County. He was a professor of anthropology at Sarah Lawrence College for 16 years before going to the museum nearly four years ago.

He became a naturalized American citizen in 1995, he said, because ''all of what I was doing was undergirded by American values, which I saw as a real contrast to the rigid hierarchy of England.''

That said, he is still suit-and-tie proper, and indeed, sets the sartorial standard for the unabashedly casual scientific staff on the museum's fifth floor. Dr. Whiteley was recently teased by colleagues when he adorned his white shirt with a glorious silver, turquoise and coral bolo tie by the Zuni Pueblo artist Frank Vacit. By the time a photographer had arrived to snap his picture , he had replaced it with a smart blue tie.

But his tormentors never noticed the Zuni rainbow sun-face turquoise belt buckle that Dr. Whiteley was still wearing. How easy it is to be fooled by appearances.